Pyrrhic Victory
by Resplendent Decadence
Summary: It was to be a long and arduous campaign, but he knew Ginny Weasley was worth it.  In the end, he would be the victor and she would come to him willingly...
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT NOTE**: Warning, this is a very dark fic about the systematic psychological break-down of one person by another and contains some VERY explicit sexual scenes. It will not have a happy ending. If this sort of thing bothers/offends you, I implore you not to read. This is intended for mature audiences only.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry, nothing wittier to say about it.

Pyrrhic Victory

Chapter One

Ginny shivered violently in the bitter wind, gasping desperately for air as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, and gazed at the carnage around her with horror filled eyes. This was not possible, could not be possible. Harry could not be dead, they could not have lost! She sank to her knees, heedless of the blood-soaked mud that began to seep through the thick material of her jeans. Her chest ached as the heart within it broke. Harry was dead. The savior of the magical world had been defeated, the man that she loved cut down by the darkest wizard magical kind had ever known. She dropped her head into her bloodstained hands and prayed desperately to wake up and find that it had all been one horrifying nightmare. Her prayers went unheeded.

Her grief-stricken haze was broken by the sound of approaching death eaters, their jovial revelry grating harshly in her ears. She tried, tried so hard to find the will to stand and flee, flee in the hope of fighting another day, but the action was beyond her. What was the point, now that the Chosen One was dead? What hope did they have of taking down Voldemort now? There was no hope, she noted dully, no hope at all.

Pain lanced through her as a death eater jerked her to her feet by her hair, the group having finally reached her. "Look at what we have here gentlemen, a little blood traitor wallowing in the mud." The masked faces leered down at her, rough chuckling and jeers being tossed around between them.

Ginny ignored it all, staring blankly into the distance. Everything was too raw, too recent for anything to penetrate. Shock had numbed her to the very core. Just a few scant hours ago Ginny would have fought back fiercely but she had lost so much and the fire simply wasn't in her anymore. Instead she allowed herself to dangle limply in the death eater's rough grasp.

The man to the left of her captor chuckled coldly as he eyed the lithe redhead in his compatriot's hold, a lustful sheen coloring his eyes. "Garbage though she may be, we can still have a bit of fun with her, don't you agree gentlemen?" There was a chorus of murmured agreement and the group closed in. Ginny closed her eyes and set her jaw, taking some small comfort in the knowledge that they would simply kill her once they had all gotten what they wanted. A hand reached down to roughly fondle her breast and she did all she could to remove herself from the situation mentally, wanting nothing more than to detach herself from her body. However, before anything could get much farther, a cool voice filtered through, snapping even Ginny back into full consciousness of her situation.

"Now, now boys, I would advise against this little activity of yours."

The ringleader of the little group looked up with a sneer curling his lips behind his mask before he registered who, exactly, it was who had spoken. He stiffened slightly but backed down, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement of this new man's superiority. "Draco, I apologize. I didn't realize…"

The blonde cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. His lips curled up in an amused smirk, his unmasked features lit with a condescending amusement. "There is much you do not realize Avery." Avery scowled but wisely held his tongue. Draco spared him one last, haughty glance before cutting his cold, grey eyes to the redhead kneeling numbly in the mud. Excitement lanced through Draco, and he felt his fingers curl in pleased anticipation. She had lived, just as he had hoped. He lifted his gaze back to Avery. "I will be taking the blood traitor for myself."

Avery gawked for a moment before tentatively clearing his throat. "But sir, surely you don't want this little slip of a thing? She is nothing more than a Weasley after all."

A slim, pale brow lifted in response. "You presume to know what I do and do not want now Avery?"

The older man felt his hackles rise at the sheer arrogance of the young man before him but was not stupid enough to issue a challenge. It was well known within the death eater ranks how highly favored the young Malfoy heir was with the Dark Lord and gaining his displeasure was almost akin to gaining the displeasure of Voldemort himself. The price of doing so was comparable as well. "If you truly want her sir," he began hesitantly.

Draco resisted the rather undignified urge to roll his eyes. "I do, now release her."

Avery scowled but gestured for the man holding Ginny to do as Draco bade. Ginny slumped further to the ground as the tight grip on her hair was released. She looked up at the blonde before her, a small portion of her normal fire returning, and wondered what the hell was going on. Draco glided forward, stopping just before the small redhead. He regarded her silently for a moment and Ginny felt a shudder travel down her spine at the look in those pale, grey eyes. It was, for lack of a better term, _predatory_. Slowly, he reached a long-fingered hand toward her.

Ginny stared at the proffered appendage, apprehension shivering through her. She wasn't, contrary to some people's opinions, a fool; she knew that she had only two options at this point: the pack of death eaters at her back or the blonde in front of her. Neither was even remotely appealing. Although, she acknowledged as she glanced from the hand before her to its owner, maybe she really didn't have a choice at all. Knowing, in the very depths of her soul, that what she was about to do would likely ultimately destroy her in the end, she placed her small, shaking hand in his. A slow, satisfied smile teased the edges of Draco's lips and he effortlessly tugged Ginny to her feet. His arm drifted down to wrap itself securely about her waist and he pulled her body closer to his own.

Draco brought his lips down to her ear, his voice soft and coolly amused. "Wise decision, my dear." Ginny's skin rippled with goose bumps at this rather intimate position and a strong sense of disgust created a ball of nausea deep in the pit of her stomach. She craned her head up to search his face and what she saw there made her entire body go cold. She knew, in that instant, that her suffering had only just begun.

Draco turned his attention back to the men before him. "Enjoy the rest of your evening gentlemen, I will be returning to the manor now with my," he glanced down at Ginny and the nausea increased ten-fold, "spoils."

* * *

><p>A loud, echoing crack was all that announced the pair's arrival to the large, imposing Wiltshire manor. Ginny had barely a moment to take in her surroundings before she was being dragged along by her latest captor.<p>

Draco, for his part, felt an acute sense of triumph stirring in his blood. She was finally his. After years of watching and waiting, of being torn between disdain and desire, Ginevra Weasley was in his grasp. On top of it all, Potter was dead and this was just the icing on the cauldron cake. He felt his lips curl up in an anticipatory grin. He had such plans for the lithesome little redhead, such plans indeed. It would a long and arduous campaign, but he knew Ginny Weasley was worth it. In the end, he would be the victor and she would come to him willingly. Ginevra was _his_.

A flurry of thoughts formed a veritable whirlwind in her mind as the Malfoy heir dragged her along through ornate hallway after ornate hallway. She could practically feel the excited tension rolling off of him in waves and knew that, whatever it was, it could not bode well for her. Considering the fact that she and Malfoy had been enemies in school and then enemies in war, Ginny could only imagine what sort of sick torture he had in mind for her. On top of it all, she had been Harry's girlfriend and the hatred between the two had been legendary. A stabbing pain lanced her heart as she thought of Harry. She still could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that he was _dead_. He wasn't coming back, wouldn't be here to save her…She took a deep breath. No, Harry wouldn't be coming to save her which meant she had to try to save herself. Once she did, then she could grieve. She refused to go down like this, not when the boy she loved had sacrificed everything to try to put the world back to right. No, whatever Malfoy had in store for her, she'd handle. A sense of calming numbness washed over her. She would do this for Harry.

After a few more twists and turns, the blonde finally drew to a halt, his hand still tightly wrapped around her thin wrist. They stood before a plain wooden door and Ginny wondered for a moment if it served as the entrance to the dungeons before, with a wave of his wand, Malfoy opened it to reveal a small, sparsely furnished bedroom. With an abrupt tug, he pushed her into the room before stepping in behind her and quietly shutting the door. Ginny eyed him warily as she rubbed at her freed wrist, not liking the expression she saw on his face as he regarded her. They were going to start right away then, huh?

Draco stalked towards her, a predatory glint glimmering in his grey eyes. It took everything in Ginny not to step back and cede ground to him. She licked her lips nervously as he drew near, flinching when his eyes trailed down to her glistening mouth. What the hell was this? Desperately trying to block the roiling sensation in her stomach that the fear caused, Ginny notched her chin up and met Malfoy's stare dead on. "What do you want?" Despite her severe unease, her voice was strong and even, something for which Ginny was immensely grateful for. Any indication of her discomfort would be used ruthlessly against her, she just knew it.

Draco came to a stop mere inches before her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He smiled, a cool upturn of his thin, hard lips, and the look on his face nearly made Ginny want to vomit. "What do I want?" he repeated softly, canting his head slightly to the side as he allowed his gaze to sweep over her body. "Everything. Every, single piece of you Ginevra."

This time Ginny couldn't fight the physical recoil and she stepped back slightly from the domineering male. Her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "What the _fuck_ Malfoy?"

He laughed and closed the slight distance between them once more, his long, elegant fingers catching and gripping her chin. "I intend to have you my dear, body, mind, and soul. And the best part is you shall give them all to me willingly."

Revulsion washed over Ginny as she regarded him, the sheer insanity of his claim slowly sinking in. Hatred burned in her eyes as she attempted to pull herself from his grasp but the blonde held tight, his other hand reaching down to grasp her hip in a bruising hold. "You're mad if you think I would _ever_ give myself to a murdering bastard like you!"

Mirth danced in his gaze, mixed with an infuriating dose of condescension. "Believe me love, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be _begging_ for me." And with that confident statement, Draco leaned down and closed the final distance between them, covering her lips with his own.

Rage flared to life within Ginny, burning hotter than anything she had ever known. She struggled to push him away but he was relentless, pulling her closer and slanting his mouth down harder against her own. An infuriated cry rose up in her throat and she bit down on his lower lip, hard enough to taste blood. He pulled back at the sharp pain but, to Ginny's displeasure, merely looked amused at her little act of defiance. The taste of his blood on her tongue sickened Ginny almost as much as his cool regard.

Draco lifted a hand to his lips, absently wiping away the remaining blood, and smirked. "Oh Ginevra, I am going to thoroughly enjoy breaking you." He swooped down for one last brief, punishing kiss before shoving her back and stalking out of her little room, engaging the locks with a casual flick of his wand.

* * *

><p>As soon as Malfoy left, Ginny stumbled backwards to sit on the bed. Of all the things she had been expecting, this certainly hadn't been it. Hadn't even been within the realm of possibility. She raised the tips of her fingers to her swollen lips, feeling them curl in disgust. She could still feel him and the sensation was almost enough to make her want to rip them off of her own face. What the fuck was he playing at? He wanted her mind, body, and soul? He was going to thoroughly enjoy breaking her? She bit down on her lower lip, allowing the pain to clear her head, center her focus. This had to be some sort of game, a different way to torture her. Well, whatever Draco Malfoy expected to gain from this he wasn't going to get it. His kind had already taken too much from her and Ginevra Weasley was not the type to go down without a fight. She felt her spine straighten as determination washed over her. Whatever game Malfoy was playing, she would be the one coming out the victor.<p>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>: So, despite my unfinished works, this particular plot just wouldn't leave me alone. I have decided, against my guilty conscience, to go ahead and post it. Since I am currently living and working in China, I cannot guarantee any frequency in terms of updates but I really will try harder to put some of my focus on my works here, especially this one. As I stated in the disclaimer, this story will NOT have a happy ending so please no flames about the graphic physical and psychological violence that will ensue. Constructive criticism, however, is always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**IMPORTANT NOTE**: Warning, this is a very dark fic about the systematic psychological break-down of one person by another and contains some VERY explicit sexual scenes. It will not have a happy ending. If this sort of thing bothers/offends you, I implore you not to read. This is intended for mature audiences only.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry, nothing wittier to say about it.

**ALSO**: I am shifting the timeline a bit here, ignoring certain events at the end of HBP and all of DH. While I love the original storyline, playing around with things is the fun of fan fiction, right? So, the Golden Trio has remained at Hogwarts for their seventh year and Draco had disappeared after his role in letting Death Eaters into the school.

Massive amounts of hugs and thanks to **a_mild_groove** for her awesome beta skills! The punctuation of this chapter would have been an unmitigated disaster without her. Love your guts lady!

Pyrrhic Victory

Chapter Two

A small, satisfied smile danced at the corners of Draco's lips as he entered the library, intending to spend the next few hours happily planning his campaign against one Ginevra Weasley. Now that the war was all but won, what with the death of the Chosen One and all, he felt that he had plenty of time to devise and implement the perfect battle strategy. He would proceed slowly and purposefully, savoring each little victory, each little concession that Ginevra would come to grant him. Oh, Draco was not a fool; he knew that this little personal campaign of his would be far from easy, just as he was aware that he would have to break her, in some ways, in order to achieve his ends. Still, he knew that it would ultimately be worth it. Having Ginevra meet him at the altar, of her own free will, was worth any price. His smile grew wider and he winced as the motion pulled at the cut on his lip. He reached up to rub the tender area ruefully. She was truly a feisty one, he would give her that, but that was one of the reasons he was so…obsessed was a nasty word. Fixated. Yes, that was one of the reasons why he was so fixated on her. She, once properly trained and conditioned, would make a stunning wife.

Draco settled down at one of the writing tables scattered throughout the vast library, pulling a long roll of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell towards him. He had plenty of experience breaking prisoners and captured Order members but those methods would not serve here. His victims tended to be worthless, broken, babbling shells once he was through with them and he wanted Ginevra whole**—**just slightly…reconditioned. His long, elegant fingers tapped against the dark wood of the desk rhythmically as he thought. She was the type of person who gave her all for those she loved-she was fiercely protective of her friends and family as well as blindly devoted to Potter and his, now late, cause. Draco tensed at this last thought. The sheer idea of Ginevra with Potter…he forced himself to relax once more, taking a deep, calming breath. Potter was no longer in the picture. Still, Draco pondered, it did give him something to work with. In order to make Ginevra his bride he would need to break all of her old ties**—**and the ones she had to Potter and her family were the strongest. Perhaps he should start there. A cool, calculating look entered into the blonde's steely grey eyes as he dipped his quill in the ink and began to write.

* * *

><p>Ginny paced the small length of her cell<strong>—<strong>she refused to refer to it as her room**—**and eyed the door anxiously for what was likely the hundredth time that afternoon. She was jumpy and on edge; she had slept poorly the night before, the memories of her capture and horrifyingly bizarre conversation with Malfoy playing over and over again in her head. When she had finally slipped into an uneasy oblivion, images of Malfoy looming over her, stripping her of her ragged, battle-stained clothing, and devouring her, body and soul, had haunted her dreams. She had awoken only a scant few hours later, shaking and biting back a scream that was**—**to her immense shame**—**part, a very small part, moan. She had been pacing like a caged lioness ever since.

What in the hell was that psychotic Slytherin going to do next? She had expected him to come to her hours ago, to resume the sick little game he had begun the night before. She had been ready, this morning, had braced herself for whatever he threw at her next, but now…now her nerves were stretched taught and fraying at the edges. She had seen no one, spoken to no one, since Malfoy. Trays of food appeared in her room and disappeared once she finished eating. She had briefly toyed with the idea of refusing to eat but had quickly dismissed it. She intended to survive this**—**whatever the hell this was**—**and starving herself was a poor way to go about doing so. She would eat, keep up her strength, and, eventually, get the hell out of here. A growl of frustration rumbled in the back of her throat. If only something would happen! She needed to know what Malfoy's intentions were, what sort of game he thought he was playing. Once she knew the rules and the stakes she could play**—**and win. If not for herself then for her family, who were hopefully still out there, and for Harry, who had given the ultimate sacrifice so that the people he had loved could live in peace and safety. He would want her to fight, to survive. He would want her to escape.

Ginny angrily swiped at the slow tears that had started to roll down her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood that still remained smeared across her face from that last, terrible battle. She would hold herself to her word; she would escape first, grieve later. She could not afford anything less than the sharp clarity that cold rage could give her. She must only focus on Malfoy, on what he would do next and how to defeat them in this fucked up little game he had started. Her hands balled themselves into tight fists at her sides and she forced herself to sit calmly on the small cot that served as her bed. She was already letting him get to her and that simply would not do. The bastard could be watching her pace and fidget right now. Ginny took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She pulled her legs up onto the bed and closed her eyes. If he wanted her to wait, then wait she shall. She would not, could not, cede any ground.

* * *

><p>If Draco had known the anxious turmoil surrounding Ginny that day he would have been quite pleased. However, he could not take credit for being the whole scenario's mastermind. In truth, he had planned on dropping by the feisty little redhead's room that very morning, but had been, unfortunately, waylaid by his rather irate father. Lucius had cornered him outside the dining room right after breakfast, much to Draco's displeasure.<p>

"So son," Lucius drawled, thin lips curling with a slight sneer as he took in the sight of his only child. "Care to explain why there is a dirty little blood-traitor being kept in the old servants' wing? Why she is not down in the dungeons with the other filth?"

Internally, Draco seethed. As if he would keep Ginevra down in the manor's filthy dungeons! Outwardly, however, he merely met his father's glare coolly. "I have plans for her."

Lucius' brow winged up in arrogant disbelief, a gesture that Draco himself displayed often. He did not appreciate being on the receiving end of it. "Oh? Would you care to share? After all, until I am dead, this manor is still, legally, mine. I have a right to know what is occurring under its roof."

Draco was hard-pressed to bite back a curse. He and his father had never truly seen eye-to-eye, despite the front they put on for the public, and the tense relationship had only been exacerbated by Draco's rapid rise through the ranks of the Death Eaters. He faked nonchalance. "Nothing so very important. The littlest Weasley was very close to Potter, though, so I've decided to see what I can get out of her."

Lucius clearly wasn't buying it for a second. "Is that so? And why, pray tell, is she not in the interrogation cells like the rest of the Order's rabble?"

"I've decided to try a different tactic," Draco returned smoothly. "I intend to break her down, gain her trust and dependence, before extracting any possible useful information about the remaining rebels."

"Indeed." Lucius was still skeptical, that much Draco could tell, he just hoped that his father would drop it and move on. No such luck.

Lucius twirled his wand idly as he regarded Draco. "I would be careful, son. Some people may misconstrue this act as one of…interest in the little blood-traitor. You wouldn't want such a transgression to taint your record or family name, now would you?"

Draco's fingers itched to raise his wand and level the arrogant elder Malfoy with a few well-placed, nasty curses. Ginevra was not his concern, nor was what Draco intended to do with her. Instead, he strove to calmly reassure the Malfoy patriarch. "Never, father. I can assure you that my intentions with the Weasley girl will bring no taint to our family name."

"Be sure that they don't," Lucius said softly, casting one last calculating glance at his son before turning on his heel and heading off down the hall.

Once he was out of sight, Draco cursed, long and creatively. The bastard knew, or at least had an inkling, of what Draco was up to. Not that it truly mattered in the long-run. Draco outranked his father in all the ways that really mattered anymore but still, Lucius could make things difficult. Draco had waited long enough for Ginevra to be his and he would not tolerate delays. No, he would need to set a few things straight before he began his long-awaited campaign.

* * *

><p>It was well after nightfall that Ginny finally abandoned her stiff, upright position at the edge of the bed to slump down in an exhausted heap against the pillows. All day; she had waited all day<strong>—<strong>on edge and tense**—**for nothing. Malfoy had never shown. On the one hand, Ginny supposed she should have been grateful for the unexpected respite but, on the other, she knew full well that she never stood a chance of enjoying it. Now, here she was, still dirty and disheveled from the battle, and exhausted**—**mentally, physically, and emotionally. With a sharp, self-mocking smile, Ginny raised one hand in a half-hearted salute. "Well played Malfoy, well played." She paused, with her hand in the air, and studied the dried, rusty red smears that marred her pale flesh. Her stomach roiled as the memories she had been striving so hard to keep at bay all day finally began to break through.

_ The day had begun just as any other at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**—**_students sleepily stumbling out of bed and down to the Great Hall for breakfast, many desperately trying to finish up an essay or assignment that was due within the next few hours, laughing, joking, and just plain being typical students. The morning and early afternoon had progressed in much of the same way_**—**_it wasn't until dinner that the world as Ginny knew it was ripped asunder. Twilight had just begun to settle in when an immense shudder seemed to roll through the castle and its grounds, spreading out much like the ripples do in a pond when the surface is disturbed by a stone. The shudders grew into full-blown tremors, each one increasing in intensity and duration. It was the teachers who had figured out what was happening first._

_ McGonagall had abruptly stood from her place at the head table, face ashen and expression stricken. She had turned to the other teachers, seeing her own conclusions reflected in their grim and horrified expressions. The castles defenses were being breached. Minerva turned back to the student body, trying to school her features back into their usual cool and calm mask. "All students fourth year and under please return to your common rooms. The entrances to each will be sealed and you are to remain there until further notice." She paused, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep her voice steady. "I am afraid that Hogwarts' defenses are being breached even as we speak. I do not think any of us need to be told who is currently breaking down our gates. As for the students in their fifth year or above, if you wish to help defend the castle please remain here. If not, return to your dormitory with the other students." She turned back to her fellow professors as a wave of terrified clamor rose up from the student tables._

_ "Pomona, will you and Filius please ensure that all the younger students are seen safely to their common rooms? I will work on organizing the older students." Another powerful shudder rolled through the grounds, causing the dishes still sitting out on all the tables to rattle and several pitchers to fall over. Minerva watched as a full pitcher of pumpkin juice toppled over on the table in front of her, spreading out across the wood in a wide puddle before dripping to the stone floor below. "I am afraid we do not have much more time."_

_ Sprout and Flitwick nodded and quickly began rounding up the younger students, efficiently herding them along at a rate of speed that could only be achieved with terrible danger nipping at one's heals. McGonagall watched them go for a few moments, praying desperately that they would get through this. Steeling herself, she turned to the remaining students and began barking out orders in a manner that would make any general proud._

_ Ginny, for her part, had quickly set her mind to the upcoming battle, irritably deflecting Ron's not-so-subtle hints that she should go to the Gryffindor common room with the younger students. Harry held her hand tightly in his as they made their way to the front of the Great Hall to receive their orders from McGonagall. She glanced over at the boy who so tightly held her heart, eyes skimming over the beloved features of his face, now tight with anxiety and worry. Harry turned to look at her as well, features relaxing slightly as he managed the best smile he could under the circumstances and squeezed her hand just a little bit tighter. She notched her chin up proudly and squeezed back, telling him without words that they would get through this, that this was nowhere near the end for them. As they had both suspected, they were ordered to the front lines of Hogwarts' defense. Unlike Ron, McGonagall had full confidence in Ginny's fighting ability_**—**_having seen her capability in not only her own class but in DADA as well_**—**_and saw no reason to keep such an asset hidden in the back of the ranks._

_ Just before moving to take their places, Harry pulled Ginny to the side, sequestering them behind one of the pillars decorating the Great Hall. He quickly pulled her into his arms, lips sweeping down to capture hers in a hard but oh-so-sweet kiss. Ginny leaned up and returned it with full fervor. The kiss broke after a moment and the two lovers stood with their foreheads lightly touching, simply soaking in one another's presence. Harry lightly twirled a long, crimson strand about his finger, leaning away slightly to press a gentle kiss against the entrapped locks. He looked back up to meet Ginny's eyes._

_ "Once this is all over," he began, regarding Ginny with an intensity she had never seen form him before. "We will get married. I don't care how young we are. You and I have seen more, been through more than most people our age and I want to know that you will be by my side for the rest of our lives."_

_ Ginny felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as she reached up with one hand to caress Harry's tense jaw line. "Yes," she said simply. Her shaky laugh was abruptly cut off when, once again, Harry swooped down for another intense kiss. They stood there for several more moments, wrapped up in one another's embrace, before reality forced its way back in. They parted, only to intertwine their fingers, and walked out onto the Hogwarts grounds to fight what would hopefully be the last battle of this cursed war._

Ginny's chest felt completely hollow as the memories of those last, sweet moments with Harry played out across her mind's eye. If only things had turned out differently…She could be planning her wedding, her future, with the man she loved. Her family would be around her, Ron would propose to Hermione…Ginny paused at the thoughts of her family. She realized that she had no idea what had happened to them. Once Harry had fallen she hadn't been exactly cognizant of her surroundings. She clenched her fists in the blankets beneath her. Please, dear Merlin, let them be okay! She prayed to any and every possible deity out there that they had gotten away, had gone underground to fight another day. She didn't even care if they never tried to find her, to rescue her, as long as they were safe. In fact, she would rather them never come, if it meant that they had gotten out of the country. Someday, when she finally escapes, she will search for them, join them, and start her life anew. She would hold on to this goal, would keep the faces of all those she loved in her heart and mind. They would serve as her sword and shield against whatever Malfoy decided to throw at her. It was with this determination, this vow, that Ginny finally sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

First, I would like to thank all who reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback! To answer some questions: yes, I will include more detail about the final battle, but it will be interspersed throughout the narrative-there will also be conflicting accounts, depending on who is telling it. I will not be writing any physical abuse, this I can assure you. The entire story will be centered on the psychological. While I can't say there will not be a good bit of smut that leans towards the violent side, it is consensual-to a degree-and both sides will be giving as good as they get. So far I have two alternative endings in mind though, honestly, neither of them is happy, at least not in the traditional sense. I know many of you have expressed a desire to see some hope and happiness come out the in the end but I do not, as of right now, really see a way to achieve that with my current plotline. However, I can try to create a third alternative ending with a lighter ending if that is what everyone wants. Normally, I do love the idea of a Draco/Ginny happily-ever-after but I tend to write on the darker, angst-ridden side of things. Just let me know and I will see what I can do. Thanks again, everybody! Your reviews really do make my day!


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